The affair had caused some heated discussion in the DO which was headed by a very moral David Whittaker, who thought that such operations were fundamentally wrong. McGarvey agreed with his DDO in principle.
But in the real world the righteous way wasn’t always the right way.
Even though he had been overridden, Whittaker insisted on being included in the loop every step of the way. The entire DO had taken an interest in the case; in fact; it had become like a soap opera. Will she or won’t she? What was at stake was nothing less than the inside track to Mexican intelligence. At risk, of course, was the acute embarrassment to the U.S.” as well as the final destruction of a troubled marriage, but a marriage for all of that. The request for the go/no go decision tonight meant that Daedo was asking permission for the final action; that of taking Mrs. Martinez to bed. McGarvey went into the hall and switched on the outside lights, then went back to the kitchen. Kathleen stood, her hip against the counter, cradling a cup of tea in both hands and staring at the telephone. “I’m not sneaking up on you, and I’m not scaring you, so don’t jump out of your skin this time.” She turned and smiled. “I was just thinking that after the hearings maybe we should take a few days and get away from here. Does that sound good to you?” “Someplace warm.” “Absolutely,” Kathleen said enthusiastically. She nodded toward the study. “Are you getting anything done in that mess?” “Some reading. Most of it pretty boring.
But it’d be easier without the plaster dust.” “Just a few days.”
“Dick Yemm is on his way over with something for me to sign.” “Use the family room,” she said automatically. “The two of you can’t get anything done in the study.” “How’re the invitations coming?” “Pretty good. But the final list is going to depend on whether or not you’re confirmed as DCI.” “You don’t want to know which list I’d prefer.”
She laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t even have to guess. But there are obligations that come with the job.” “I know-” “Social obligations, my darling husband,” she stressed. “That means a tuxedo and no smart-alec ky comments to get a rise out of our guests.” “Throw a stick at a pack of dogs, and the one that yelps is the one that got hit.” She gave him a sharp look.
He spread his hands. “I’ll behave myself.” He came around the counter, rinsed his cup in the sink and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Really.” “I’m going to hold you to it,” she said sternly. The doorbell rang. “Has Liz called yet?” Kathleen’s lips compressed. She shook her head. “I’m going to have to call her since she’s obviously too busy to pick up a telephone and call me.” “She’s a little shit,”
McGarvey said, trying to keep it light. “It runs in the family.” “I’m going upstairs. Say hi to Dick,” Katy said, and she took her cup and the guest list and left the kitchen as McGarvey went to answer the door. The fact that Kathleen was having her own tough time because of the hearings right in the middle of their daughter’s pregnancy made it difficult all around. But this, too, will pass, he thought. And the sooner the better. Dick Yemm, a leather dispatch case in hand, his coat collar hunched up against the cold, his dark hair speckled with snow, was grinning crookedly. “No rest for the wicked,” he said.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” McGarvey asked, letting him in. “About as much as anyone else in the business, boss.” He followed McGarvey down the hall into the family room, where McGarvey motioned him to a bar stool.
“Want a beer?” Yemm hesitated. “How about a cognac?” “That sounds good,” Yemm said. He unlocked the dispatch case and withdrew the thin file folder with the mission authorization form. McGarvey gave him his drink and took the folder. “Used to be in the old days that everybody was screwing everybody else, and no one took any notice,” Yemm said gloomily. “Now it’s different, and I don’t know if we’re better off for it.” “These days we think twice before we do something. That’s a change for the better.” “She was at the wrong place at the wrong time.” “Yeah,” McGarvey said. He took a pen from Yemm, signed the form and handed them back. “Sometimes we’re not very honorable men.
Expediency without integrity.” “At least we’re fighting on the right side,” Yemm conceded. “Sometimes I wonder.” Yemm gave him a critical look. “Problems, boss?”
McGarvey took a drink. “I wasn’t kidding when I asked you this afternoon if you ever thought about getting out of the business.” “I wasn’t kidding when I said every day.” Yemm took a pull at his drink.
“But it’s too late for us.” “What do you mean?” “What else could we do?” Yemm answered morosely. “What else are we trained for except opening other people’s mail, eavesdropping and shooting people who don’t agree with us?” McGarvey shrugged. “We do the best we can,” he said. He swirled the liquor around in the snifter and took another drink as if he needed it to buck himself up. “When the Soviet Union packed it in we lost the bad guys. The evil empire. An idea that we could rally around the flag against. They were worse than the Nazis and five times as deadly, because they had the bomb.” “You almost sound nostalgic ”
“They had the bomb, everyone was afraid that they might actually use it. Remember the nuclear countdown clock? Missiles over the pole; Vladivostok to Washington, D.C.; Moscow to Seattle, equidistant. Or, tactical nukes across the Polish plains into Germany.
Or missiles in Cuba.” “They held our attention there for a while,”
Yemm said. “That they did. But since 9-11 all bets are off. The bad guys are everywhere.” “Like I said, boss, time to get out.” McGarvey shook his head. “Not yet, Dick. I’m going to need you for the next two or three years.” “You’re taking the job then?” “If I can get past the hearings. There’s a lot of truth to what Hammond’s saying.”
“Bullshit,” Yemm said. “I’ll try,” McGarvey promised, his eyes straying to the fireplace. “It’s like road rage; people jumping out of their cars and shooting each other because someone pissed them off by doing something stupid. Minor shit. Only now everybody’s been infected, even entire governments. We’re in a kind of a geopolitical road rage that’s hard to fight, and almost impossible to predict.” He looked back at Yemm. “That’s our job now. Figuring out who’s going to go crazy next.” “That include us?” Yemm asked softly. McGarvey nodded. “Yes.” How to get that across to Senator Hammond and the others tomorrow, he wondered. He was guilty of a mild form of treason.
He had a feeling that he’d always been guilty of that crime. He’d always seen both sides of every issue. Yemm pocketed his pen and put the authorization form back into his dispatch case. He finished his drink. “Sorry, boss,” he said. “For what?” “I came over to cheer you up for tomorrow. Guess I didn’t do such a hot job of it.” “It’s the weather. It’s got everybody down.” At the door Yemm buttoned his coat.
“I used to like the snow when I was a kid. Now I hate it.” “Yeah, me too,” McGarvey said. “You need a security detail out here around the clock.” “I’ll think about it,” McGarvey said. Yemm nodded glumly.